


Negotiations

by TuriansCanDance



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Married Couple, Post-Game, Pregnant Byleth, the purest fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25936438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuriansCanDance/pseuds/TuriansCanDance
Summary: Claude chuckled at her dramatics and crossed the room, standing close so that she could rest her head on him. He ran a hand through her hair.“You’re cute when you pout, you know that?”“Take pity on me,” she said, losing herself briefly in the calm his presence brought her while she played with the pom-poms on the sash at his waist. “I’m exhausted and still have a tower of paperwork to face down.”----------A fluffy, little snapshot of Byleth and Claude's life post-war.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 121





	Negotiations

Byleth sat at her desk, drawing lazy, nonsensical lines on a piece of scrap paper, her chin propped up on her hand. She’d been trying to focus on drafting her various correspondents for the last hour, but her mind was insistent on wandering. She reached for the cup of tea that sat at the corner of the desk and brought it to her lips, scrunching her nose in distaste as she tasted the tepid liquid. She had let it sit forgotten until it grew cold. 

She returned the cup to its matching saucer with a little more force than she had intended, and it threatened to chip with a sharp _clink._

“You’re going to get an earful from Seteth if you’re not careful, Teach. That’s his favorite porcelain.”

The sound of Claude’s voice snapped her out of her daze. She looked up, seeing her husband causally leaning in the doorway of her office. He seemed amused by her lack of focus. She began to wonder how long she had been oblivious to him standing there but gave up on the question before she even recognized thinking it; Claude was the only thing she wanted now. 

Byleth dropped her quill into the ink pot and leaned back in the chair, but extended her hand out to him, pouting.

Claude chuckled at her dramatics and crossed the room, standing close so that she could rest her head on him. He ran a hand through her hair.

“You’re cute when you pout, you know that?”

“Take pity on me,” she said, losing herself briefly in the calm his presence brought her while she played with the pom-poms on the sash at his waist. “I’m exhausted and still have a tower of paperwork to face down.”

“The little ones giving you trouble?” he asked quietly, his tone shifting. 

The care in his voice made warmth bloom in her chest and she didn’t need to see his face to know how he was looking at her. He had been showing that face more often; his eyebrows pinched together and emerald eyes wondering what he could do for her. Claude had always treated her with a reverence she still didn’t believe she quite deserved, and he had been especially gentle to her in the past months. 

To say Claude had been ecstatic when they found out she was pregnant would be the understatement of the century; he had spun her around, showering her with words she didn’t understand as he slipped into his native Almyran tongue out of sheer joy, but she could infer their meaning. She had frantically tapped on his shoulder to put her down, nausea threatening to ruin a moment she’d prefer to keep pristine. Claude had gotten her settled into a chair and ran off to fetch her some tea, a little more bounce in his step than before.

Months along now, that adoration hadn’t ebbed. When one of the twins she was carrying would move in a way she wasn’t expecting and her breath would catch in her throat, Claude was by her side hands hovering in such a way that he wasn’t sure if he would break her if he touched her. He didn’t handle being helpless very well, and in this instance, Byleth found it incredibly endearing.

She playfully poked him in the ribs, looking up into his deep, green eyes. Gods, he was far too handsome; she wondered if she would ever learn where the bottom of her love for him ended. “No, nobles are. The Gloucesters are getting more insistent.” 

She reached across her desk and picked up a stack of parchment, fanning through the pages. There were close to a dozen letters. “I really wish you would respond to Lorenz. When he can’t get a hold of you, he inundates me with them.”

“Letters get lost all the time when crossing country borders,” he said, and she could hear the half-truth in his voice. 

Claude took the letters from her and scanned the contents of the paper immediately on top. Lorenz was requesting that Claude recall his old retainer, Judith, from Gloucester lands, if it was the one Byleth was thinking of. 

Months ago, Judith had been asked by Claude to oversee some of the business discussions Byleth was having to pursue in old Alliance lands. While her tasks weren’t dangerous, Claude, through is vast-reaching information sources, had caught wind of malcontents with a malicious plan to ambush her convoy during her trip. He would never dream of doubting Byleth’s ability to fend off a random group of bandits but having Judith there with her made him feel less guilty about being burdened with matters in Almyra at the time.

And ambushed they were. Byleth almost felt bad about how soundly the bandits had been taken care of. They had no leader to speak of, and their strategy could only be considered one in the loosest of terms. Her personal guard had barely enough time to organize before she, Judith and Leonie had chased them off.

When they arrived at the Gloucester manor to rest before continuing their procession back to Derdiu, Judith took it upon herself to ensure Lorenz wans’t messing up any of the land negotiations between his house and House Daphnel. Which was odd, because there hadn’t been any, but Byleth knew better than to question the motives of the old Alliance lord and left her to her task. Judith made no attempts to hide her favoritism for Byleth, but the green-haired woman did not want to test those boundaries. 

Apparently, Judith had never left and spent her days since lecturing Lorenz and calling him ‘boy.’

His pleas for Claude to show mercy on him turned into pleas for the crown to intervene, which was code for _talk to your husband._

Claude made a show of false concern for his friend and with a shrug he tossed the letters into the crackling flames of the nearby fireplace, soundly ignoring his wife’s protests as a few hours of her work went up in a small blaze.

“Claude, I needed to—!”

“You need to rest,” he said, taking her hand that had uselessly shot out to stop him from burning her papers and pulled her up from the chair and into his arms, taking extra care not to jostle her too much. “The nobles can wait.”

“It’s Lorenz,” she insisted, standing on her tiptoes to look over his shoulder, seeing if any of her work had managed to fall away from the hungry flames. Nothing had survived.

“Exactly. He can wait.”

She huffed a sigh at him and took a half step back. Her husband kept a loose hold around her waist. “I think I might have a legitimate issue to resolve if you don’t tell Judith to stop…whatever she’s doing.”

Claude flashed her a mischievous grin. “She’ll be out of his lovely hair soon enough.”

“She’s gone in a week, and you’ll stop by his manor to tell him of this. Personally.” Byleth said, ignoring his attempts to charm her away from the subject. Claude let the grin slip from his face and replaced it with a look of amusement.

“I like it when you’re bossy.”

“And I like not having to read Lorenz’s letters every day.”

Claude barked out a laugh. “Don’t we all!”

She blinked at him, patiently waiting for him to respond to her request. He gave a good-natured sigh. “I’ll go see him, Teach.”

“Thank you,” she said, satisfied that she would finally not have to deal with that situation anymore. Byleth moved to return to her desk, but Claude’s hold on her tightened and kept her in her place.

“Any work you have left can wait until tomorrow,” he said. She was about to chastise him for pulling the tone he saved for the especially stubborn nobles from his homeland, but fair was fair, even if he was technically the visiting dignitary in a foreign land. Being the husband to the ruler of Fodlan had its benefits.

“Three letters,” she bargained, crossing her arms.

“It’s a personal request from the King of Almyra,” Claude said, his voice taking on a mock seriousness. “The Archbishop would do well to avoid causing a diplomatic issue.”

Byleth levied an unamused, blank stare at him, and the corner of his mouth twitched as he tried not to smile. “One letter, and I’ll let you brew me some tea.”

Claude raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh, you’ll _let me_?”

She hummed her response, leaning in to kiss his cheek. 

Claude made a show of thoroughly debating his options before nodding. “I accept these terms.”


End file.
